Thirteen's Angel
by AnnCarter
Summary: Thirteen's Huntington's in its last and worst stages. Will her angel show up? A few years post finale, character death.


**Name:** Thirteen's Angel.

**Writer:** Ann.

**Fandom:** House M.D.

**Rating:** PG13.

**Characters:** House & Thirteen.

**Summary:** Thirteen's Huntington's in its last and worst stages. Will her angel show up?

**Timeline:** A few years after the Series Finale.

**Genre:** Friendship.

**I don't own the rights for House. All rights for House reserved to FOX and David Shore.**

* * *

She was shaking. She was shaking, and she couldn't stop herself. Her hands, her legs, she couldn't control any part of her body. Even her brain was no longer in her control. She could think clearly every now and then, but other than that she could barely think, too. She just sat there, in that chair, and wished for the end to come.

It wasn't the first time she was alone, not that day and not that year. That woman who stayed with her… who was she? She was nice, but she could always see that despite her love for her, she sometimes thought it was all disgusting. She could understand why. If she looked like she felt, she wasn't a pretty sight. Not with all the shaking and drooling and her being unable to control herself. She was like a baby, whose condition kept getting worse and worse every day.

It was one of the days when Remy had a moment of lucidity, and all of a sudden, she remembered everything. That woman who slept in her house was her girlfriend, who apparently loved her and cared for her enough to take care of her even in that hard time. She left to buy some groceries, which despite Remy's recurring requests, did not include sleeping drugs – or any other drugs, for the matter – for her to kill herself. She was not sure whether she did not want to let go of her or she just feared for herself, but she kept refusing, and Remy remained alive.

Once again, her mind returned to an old… friend, almost, of hers. He died years ago – or at least, that's what the world thought. A few months after his funeral she met with her friends, the men and woman who used to be his underlings and were now in higher positions, to find out what she suspected was true- he was not dead. He hasn't contacted any of them to confirm that, but sooner or later, they have all figured it out. And they were all sure that he will be back one day.

He never returned. One way or another he lived and moved on in his life, leaving them behind, wondering if and when he will be back.

Remy was probably the one to have missed him the most. A long time ago, a couple of years prior to his death, he told her he will kill her. It wasn't a threat, it was a promise, one that he will be there for her when the time comes and she will need someone to kill her like she did to her brother. Yet the time has come, and as she expected after his death, she was completely alone in her wish to die.

A knock on the door of her small apartment cut her thoughts off. She looked at the simple decorations around her until she found the door, noticing it was left slightly open. Her girlfriend may have left, but she wanted her to be able to see guests had someone come to see her or look after her. Not that Remy could think of anyone who would come to take care of her- both her parents were dead and she killed her brother with her own hands a few years earlier. There was no one left for her in the world.

Obviously, she was wrong.

The door opened, and a man walked in. His blue eyes searched around the room for a moment before they found her, and a soft look took over the tiredness she saw there seconds earlier.

"Thirteen," He greeted her quietly, closing the door behind him. She noticed he was carrying his backpack, in which she was completely sure there was an IV bag and equipment ready for her. He slowly started walking towards her, looking around him at the apartment. "Nice place."

"Tha… Thanks," She murmured, trying not to shake too much and speak as clearly as she could.

Fortunately, House was a doctor. He knew everything there was to know about Huntington's, except experiencing it, which he could never do. And so he did not expect her to speak, something which she was grateful for. She looked at his as he wore gloves and quickly set up the IV, as quickly as only an experienced doctor like him could do.

"I di… didn't think-"

"-that I'll come? You thought I forgot?" He asked quietly as he set it up, hanging it on the hanger by her chair. However, he didn't open the vein, just kept looking at her quietly.

"We thought… you we… were d… dead…" She tried to say, even though they both knew his teams have figured it out long ago. He wasn't dead, and both Cuddy and his teams knew that long ago.

"No, you didn't."

"No," she managed to smile slightly, "we didn't."

They sat there quietly for a moment before House, knowing she awaits answers, spoke again. "I was about to go to jail. Wilson needed me. I couldn't leave him alone," he said quietly, his blue eyes going unfocused for a moment as he remembered his long dead friend. "I was at the funeral. I saw you guys searching for me, and I figured you realized I'm alive. Which brings me back to- why didn't you think I'll be here like I promised?"

Promised was always a strong word for House, and so Remy was surprised to hear him using it. But apparently his time with Wilson and alone changed him the way years couldn't.

"I thi... thought you forgot," she admitted.

He looked at her softly, with a gaze that was rarely used by him. She saw it only a couple of times before, usually when he was around Wilson, and once when he promised her that he'll kill her when she will need him. It was the same soft, even caring, look that revealed that he actually cared for the other person too, and not just for himself the way others thought he did when they met him.

"I told you that I'll kill you. I don't lie," He said quietly, "And I don't break my word. I'm here to kill you. If… that's really what you want."

Remy held still for a moment, thinking about her girlfriend. She loved her… but she could no longer remain there, not with Huntington's going so bad that she could think for a few minutes in a good day. There were full days she couldn't barely recognize her girlfriend.

"Could… you wri… write a letter… for me?" She asked quietly.

He nodded. "Sure. You love her. You're sorry. You wanna be buried near your family. Anything else you want me to add?" He asked as he quickly wrote the letter the way he knew she would write.

She read it quickly and then nodded briefly. "That… that's perfect," she murmured.

"Good." He put the letter on the table in the living room and then quickly returned to her, ready to stick the needle into her vein. "Are you ready?"

She closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair. "It's time," She said quietly, in her mind seeing her brother saying the same thing to her. She felt House sticking the needle in her body and smiled as much as he could as the drugs started flowing into her body.

"Thank you," She whispered.

She could almost hear him nodding. "Goodnight, Thirteen."


End file.
